A Tube o' Toothpaste
by sghaus
Summary: Saturday morning at the Weasleys' is not going well for Ginny. She has to cook breakfast, falls out of bed, accidentally destroys most of the upstairs section of the house, and can't find the toothpaste. HG, Fluffy, Short story
1. Toothpaste

Saturday morning at the Weasleys' was not going well for Ginny.

She rose very, very early, much to her distaste. And what was even more disgusting, to her, was that as much as she tried, she _couldn't go back to sleep._

So poor Ginny had to get out of bed at six thirty a.m. on a Saturday. So what? you ask. Well, according to Section IV, Clause 3, tradition at the Weasleys' dictated that, "If, on a Saturday, thou shalt by chance waketh up the most earliest, thou shalt cooketh the morning meal for thy family and any guests that happen to be a-visiting."

Ouch.

Ginny sighed and jammed on her slippery slippers that were extra slippery this morning, and the result was that poor Ginny slipped and fell on the floor when she tried to get out of bed. What was even worse, though, was that she fell out on the _wrong side of the bed, _which meant that there was _no rug _to even partially save her rear-end from destruction. Instead, she hit the wood floor with a loud crash and even louder groan, which caused the ghoul to wake up and start hitting the pipes in the attic.

Lovely, our heroine thought. Simply fan_tas_tic.

Of course, no one woke up and asked if she was okay, because this was a terrible morning and terrible mornings don't allow even a shred of good to interrupt them.

Ginny experimentally groaned again, just to see if anyone (a.k.a. Harry, who was staying with them until school started) would come rescue her.

Of course not.

So Ginny continued on her destructive way to the bathroom, accidentally dragging her blanket with her. Ginny didn't know that her journey to the bathroom was marked by destruction, but that was because her blanket muffled the sounds of the falling vases, picture frames, and rickety old chests with vases and picture frames loaded on them.

Oh, well. What Ginny doesn't know won't hurt her.

Yawning, Ginny stumbled into the bathroom, grabbed her toothbrush, and started to rub it furiously against her teeth. For some reason, though, it felt kind of odd. Ginny checked her toothbrush.

Oh, right, she thought. Toothpaste.

_But there was no toothpaste in the bathroom._

"Oh dear," mumbled Ginny. "Am I sure that there is no toothpaste in here?"

She looked around her. Oh, there it was! Floating right in front of her eyes! Ginny made a vague attempt to grab it. The toothpaste dodged. She tried again, again, to no avail. By now her weariness was starting to disappear, and her eyesight was slowly arriving to its normal 20/20 vision. The toothpaste was still zooming around her face, but now it was humming a strange song. It was sounded like this: "Giiiiiinnnnnyyyyy….GIIIIIIInnnnnyyyyy…."

Why in Merlin's name was the toothpaste saying her name?

Maybe because _it wasn't the toothpaste. _

Maybe there was a person who was making the toothpaste move, with a wand or some other sort of _device_!

It was calling to her.

Ginny smiled rather insanely. This was her destiny! She had to find the toothpaste enchanter _before it was too late!_

There was only one way to do that. She had to grab the toothpaste.

Ginny swung her arm out blindly, attempting to grab the toothpaste, but missed and hit something soft and…kind of mushy.

"Ow," it said, in a vaguely familiar voice.

"What are you?" croaked Ginny, her fingers feeling and mushing the Thing.

"Imff Hurmvey," it said, sounding rather restrained. "Moofve yer haunfd!"

"What?" asked Ginny, moving her hand away. (The Thing was starting to feel kind of wet.)

"Thank Merlin," said the Thing, still in its irritatingly familiar voice.

Something clicked in Ginny's brain. A connection was forged between the voice and the toothpaste!

Oh no.

That was _Harry's _voice?

Oh please, say it isn't so! groaned Ginny internally.

She rubbed her eyes vigorously, and stared at the bright green eyes a few inches above her.

"No, no, no, no, no, no no, no," Ginny said, still staring. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no..."

The Thing-no, Harry-laughed.

"Was I really mushing up your face?" Ginny whispered.

Harry nodded, still grinning.

"Oh crap."

Pause.

"Why are you smiling?" Ginny asked suspiciously, her voice losing that just-awakened croak.

"Because you _had_ toothpaste on your brush! You just grabbed Ron's toothbrush and saw that _he _had no toothpaste on his brush!" Harry was laughing madly now. "I was watching you the entire time!"

"What! Then why don't I have toothpaste in my mouth?"

"Because," Harry gasped, "You washed it out!"

I did? Ginny thought.

"I did?" Ginny asked.

Harry nodded.

"Uhhhnnnn," Ginny groaned, and started hitting her head against the wall.

Harry snorted.

Wait.

"How long have you been watching me?" Ginny asked.

"Since you got up," Harry replied unconcernedly.

"Meaning since I fell out of bed?" Ginny was starting to get excited.

"Yep," said Harry, grinning. "That was funny."

"Shut up. So you were awake before me."

"Six o' clock," Harry nodded.

"Do you know what Section IV Clause 6 of Weasley tradition states?"

"Um, no?"

Ginny wrinkled her nose. "It says, 'If, on a Saturday, a guest who is a close friend of the Weasley family or of a Weasley, and he shalt waketh up most earliest, then he shalt cooketh the morning meal for the Weasley family and anyone else who is a-visiting.'"

"Right."

"So?" Ginny prompted.

"What?"

"Duh."

"Now?"

"When else?"

"Why?" Harry groaned.

"Because." Ginny grinned evilly.

"No."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

Harry smiled.

Ginny made a face at him.

"I'll have to chase you for this, Potter."

"I know, Weasley."

Ginny took a step towards him. Harry didn't move. Ginny took a flying leap towards Harry. He dodged out of the bathroom.

_The chase had begun._

Ginny slid down the banister after Harry, narrowly missing a portrait of old Uncle Alfred.

"Watch it!" the portrait squeaked. Neither Harry nor Ginny paid any attention to it.

The chase continued through the kitchen twice, over the living room furniture and up the stairs before Ginny finally tackled Harry outside Ron's bedroom door.

"Oomph," Harry said to Ginny, who landed on top of him.

She grinned evilly. "I got you, Harry Potter. Now you must cook breakfast for all of us! Rejoice! Rejoice! I will not be shoved into the frying pan today!"

"Shoved into the frying pan?"

"Don't ask."

"I won't."

Ginny grinned.

Harry smiled.

Those green eyes were getting closer, and closer, and closer.

I never saw the bits of orange in them before, Ginny thought vaguely, before her eyes closed and her thinking shut down completely.

But no, it didn't last long.

"GINNY! HARRY!" came a shout.

Oh dear.

Ginny cringed and looked up. It was Ron. This was not good. This was not good at all.

"Um, good morning?" she tried.

"Can I propose a piece of advice?" whispered Harry.

"Yeah," Ginny said, keeping an eye on the dangerously red Ron.

"I think we should run."

"Yeah, me too."

"So let's GO!" yelled Harry, grabbing Ginny's hand and towing her away from Ron, who just pounced. "Run, Ginny! Run for your love-life!"

"What do you think I'm doing!" panted Ginny, running alongside Harry after they burst out of the back door.

"Er, you're right," Harry said breathlessly back. "So where are we going?"

"Follow me," said Ginny, and off she ran, putting on a strong spurt of speed. They raced away, all the way to a large tree. Ginny shimmied up the trunk in no time.

Harry paused.

"Um, Ginny," he called to her. "How do I get up there?"

Ginny looked down from the high cradle she was sitting in.

"Just climb!" she yelled. "Ron's gaining on us!"

Harry looked behind him. His eyes widened. What he saw was not one Weasley, but _all the sons _running as if Molly Weasley was after them. He took one look at them and one look at Ginny and scrabbled his way up the tree. It was a very messy climb, but he made it anyway.

"I knew you could do it if you had the proper incentive," Ginny said.

"Hmph," said Harry, and kissed her.

Maybe the morning _wasn't _so terrible after all.

Love it? Hate it? REVIEW! It's the answer to all of life's questions! Or, you know, all of _my_ life's questions…


	2. Drama! Haha!

"That's where they are!" Ron yelled to his brothers, pointing out the window at the tree that Ginny and Harry were presently located.

"Where!" asked an overexcited Fred.

"Where's the boy who's molesting our sister!" George shouted.

("He did _what?_" came an enraged shout from Bill.)

"Right over there, dungbrain!"

"I can't believe Harry!" exclaimed Charlie.

"They're going to _elope?_" asked a dumbstruck Bill. "No way."

These and other wild speculations and exclamations were flying around the kitchen, where the Weasley boys were currently gathered to discuss their fight plan.

"I say we get them out of that tree RIGHT NOW!" said Ron.

"I propose a comments campaign! We'll make them too embarrassed to even sit down to breakfast together!" said Charlie.

"Yeah, but we need to get them out of that tree first," argued Ron.

"No, but-"

"Yes, but-"

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" yelled Bill.

All heads turned toward him.

"You guys haven't realized that we get them out of the tree FIRST, and THEN start a comments campaign! Honestly!"

Silence reigned for a second (or two).

Then appreciative murmurs broke out among the brothers.

"Wow."

"Can't believe we never thought of that!"

"When did he get so smart?"

"Yeah, he always seemed to be nuttier than a fruitcake."

"Fred, you idiot, fruitcakes have fruit in them, not nuts."

"_Sometimes_ they have both."

"SHUT UP!" yelled Bill again. "LETS GO GET HARRY!"

That was all it took.

The Weasley boys were off as if Uncle Alfred's famously moldy fruit-and-nut bars were after them, which meant that they were running very fast.

When they arrived, panting, at the tree, they began shouting all sorts of dire threats at Harry and Ginny, who were talking and blushing with each other.

"We're going to beat you to a pulp, Potter!"

"Yeah, you'll never live to elope with her, if that's what you're thinking!"

"Wait until we make you the Boy-Who-Died instead of the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"Ginny! I never gave you permission!"

"You're not allowed to kiss boys!"

Ginny had had enough.

"Excuse me?" she asked politely, swinging her pajama-covered legs. "And who else am I going to kiss? Girls?"

"That's not what I meant!" howled Ron. "You're not allowed to kiss anyone without permission!"

"Well," said Ginny pompously, "I just gave _myself_ permission," and leaned over and kissed Harry, a) to spite her brothers and b) because she wanted to.

The Weasleys below gave a resounding howl of grief and mourning.

"I'm scarred for life!" wailed Charlie.

"Good," said Ginny.

Harry was grinning.

"You thought we were going to _elope?_" he asked incredulously.

"If we do get married, I'm not going to invite any of you pigs," declared Ginny. "You'll put rabbits in the cake or something."

This, needless to say, gave Fred and George a few ideas.

"Oh, no, my dear," said Harry to Ginny. "I intended to have individual cupcakes at our wedding."

"Well, that's all wonderful but what are we going slice?"

"One of them, obviously," said Harry, waving his hand at the variety of red-haired boys below.

("Hey!" came a shout from below)

"Oh, that's lovely, darling!" Ginny drawled in a fake accent.

("This is sickening," muttered Ron)

"Where do you suppose we should go for our honeymoon, sweet pea?"

"Oh, English countryside, definitely. We'll rent a cottage and ride horses and look at the beautiful sunsets…"

("Help, help, help, help, HELP US…" moaned the twins)

"Oh Ginny, my love! Just answer me one, -"

"Yes, Harry?" Ginny fluttered her eyes exaggeratedly.

"Will you mar-"

"NOOOO!" shouted the five boys from below, and each launched themselves at the tree, attempting to knock Harry off his branch. They swung their legs and waved their arms wildly, oh! what an attempt it was! How they struggled! But, alas, it was to no avail.

"Will you marry me?" asked Harry, grinning.

"Oh yes! Oh my dear! I cannot express my happiness with words! Oh! Oh!" cried Ginny, putting all her wonderful acting skills to work.

Harry leaned over and kissed her to complete the scene. After a while, he cracked one eye open to check if the coast was clear. There was no one.

"It's safe," he whispered.

"Good," Ginny said, and began to cackle madly. "Heeheehee, they thought we were going to _elope!_"

Watching her, Harry started to crack up also.

"Yeah," he chortled. "You could have fried an egg on Ron's face! Did you see him?"

"Of course, Harry, it was rather hard not to! And speaking of eggs," Ginny said, twisting to face Harry. "You're still cooking breakfast."

"Oh, brother," Harry muttered, and slid out of the tree, looking resigned.

"Don't worry," said Ginny. "At least it gives you a way to poison their food."

A slow smile crept over Harry's features.

"You're right," he said.

"I always am," said Ginny smugly.


	3. Breakfast

Author's Note: Sorry for the extreme delay. Brownie points to whoever can actually understand the mushed up word sentence fragment…thing describing the look on Fred's face!

Back at the Burrow, the Weasley boys had caught their breath and were now looking for something to eat.

"Fred! Any fruitcake left?"

"Nope, none! Where is all the food in this house?"

"Bunch of pigs," Charlie muttered, watching Bill chug down a carton of milk.

A creak on the stairs announced Arthur Weasley's arrival.

"Merlin, am I famished," he said, looking round at the boys. "Who's cooking today?"

"Harry," replied Charlie. "And speak of the devil, there he is now! Along with, dare I say it, our little sister! Don't they look sweet?"

"Oh, look! He's holding open the door for her! And he's holding her hand…Gred, isn't that so adorable?" George said, acting like Harry and Ginny were two year olds playing at marriage.

Arthur blinked. Harry and Ginny…I always knew it was coming, he thought.

"Well, Harry, m'boy, I wish you two the best of luck, and, er, hold off on anything too, er, well, you know…"

Harry felt his face go red, and twitched ever so slightly. Ginny narrowed her eyes.

"So," said Fred. "When can we expect the wedding, Harry?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, not even blushing. "Shut up, Fred."

"Right, here's a piece of advice to you two-abstinence is the best policy. Don't want to be popping out miniatures too early, now, eh?" stated Bill.

"Give her a ripe big ol' kiss, now, Harry," added Charlie.

"Go on!" encouraged Ron.

"Bloody idiots," said Harry. "What do you say we curse them into the next century, Ginny?"

"Hm," Ginny said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "I suppose we could…after breakfast," and she bounced away to join her brothers at the table, giving her father a kiss on the cheek and telling them all, "Thank you for your blessings and advice. We'll be sure to follow them," and sitting down innocently.

Harry, still blushing, narrowed his eyes, turned towards the stove and began making The Breakfast.

Molly Weasley came down the stairs just as Harry was cracking the first eggs in a bowl.

"My goodness, Harry! Why are you making breakfast? You sit down dear, I'll do this. Fred! George! Bill! Charlie! Ron! _Arthur!_ What is the meaning of this? Guests. Do. Not. Work. In. This. House. Do you understand me?"

"Now, mum, don't get your knickers in a twist-"

Molly glared at Fred.

"Or, er, don't get upset, but Ron here discovered Harry and Ginny in a rather _suggestive _position this morning, doing some rather _suggestive _things, and we-meaning the five of us brothers-decided that we must fulfill our duties as older brothers and set the stage to rights. So, having had to chase the two lovebirds as they tried to escape to do some more, shall we say, _suggestive _activities, we resolved to simply have Harry cook breakfast as punishment for trying to elope with our baby sister." Fred finished with a look that said clearly, "We were only doing what we thought was right-ahemnotreally."

Molly narrowed her eyes formidably. "Ginny?" she prompted. "Explain."

Ginny's jaw dropped in outrage. "You are actually going to believe those twits, Mum? He just kissed me, is all! And THEY were trying to kill him for it! Suggestive my arse. And the reason Harry is cooking breakfast is because he was the first one awake this morning, and he's a close friend-"

"Close friend? Try husband," muttered Ron.

"Shut up, Ronaldo, you shouldn't be talking after what I found you and Hermione doing in the-"

"RIGHT. SO. Back to the explanation, Ginny," Ron cleared his throat.

"Well, according to Section IV Clause 6, Harry is rightfully assigned the duty as breakfast maker for today!"

Molly pursed her lips. "All right then Ginny, Harry, I'm sorry for any trouble. I can still cook, you know."

"No, Mrs.Weasley, honestly, I'm all right with cooking."

"If you're sure, then. And Ron! Do I really want to know?"

"Er, no?" Ron ventured.

Molly gave him a shrewd look. "I'll not ask, then." Seating herself next to Ginny, she gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek. "Ginny, darling, I'm so glad for you! I knew he'd come around eventually. To think! All those times you talked about him with me…"

Ginny's eyes were twitching madly. Her jaw was clenched. Her lips were pursed.

"Now, then, how was the kiss?"

Ginny's jaw dropped. "Mum!" she hissed. "Shush! You're so embarrassing!"

Charlie snorted. "Go on, Ginny, tell us," he said loudly. "On a scale of one to ten, how was Harry?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes. So this was what they were doing…a sort of comments campaign.

"Well," she said completely unabashedly, "I'd give him an eight. With practice I'm sure he'll get to ten."

Harry's neck went red. Resolutely, he cracked the eggs and whisked them. His eyes roved around the kitchen. Now what was something perfectly disgusting that even Fred wouldn't like in his food?

Chocolate and ketchup.

Harry squirted a generous helping of both in the egg mixture, whisked them, and fried the whole shebang. "Fred!" he called, and levitated the plate of eggs towards him.

A grin formed on Harry's face. Now for George…

In half an hour, Harry had completed all the orders for the Weasleys and himself. He substituted strawberry jam with pickled cranberries on Charlie's toast (Charlie hated anything remotely sour), added salt to Bill's milk, put Filibuster's No-Heat Wet-Start Fireworks in Ron's glass of orange juice, and included bits of boiled frog liver in George's kippers. Ginny's, Molly's, Arthur's, and his own plate he had kept clear. Now he was going to sit back and watch the show.

Ginny gave Harry a sidelong glance as he grinned and sat down with his plate. Something was up, she concluded. Harry + food + annoying Weasley boys Something funny. She took a large bite of her buttered toast and waited for the brothers to do the same.

Ron looked at Bill who looked at Charlie who looked at George who wasn't looking because he was exchanging a glance with Fred.

"Er, mum? I'm not feeling to well," said Ron slowly, pushing back his plate.

"Yeah," agreed Charlie. "All that exercise this morning…"

"I'll be upstairs if you need anything," said Bill, and nudged Fred, who rubbed his stomach and said:

"Stomach ache. Think I'm going to blow-"

"WAIT." commanded Molly, stopping the boys as they dashed towards the stairs. "You come back here and eat this food that your _guest _kindly made for you. SIT. NOW. EAT."

The boys meekly came back.

"Mmm," said George painfully. "Great cooking, Harry."

"Yep," said Fred, and swallowed.

Ron, Bill, and Charlie simply nodded, looking like they were going to die any second. Charlie's face puckered up as he bit into his toast with pickled cranberries. "Very flavorful," he gasped.

"I know!" said Ginny brightly. "I think Harry should make all the food for today!"

Charlie kicked her foot under the table.

"Ow, Charlie! What are you kicking me for?" Ginny exclaimed loudly.

"Charlie!" Arthur admonished.

"Sorry," he said weakly.

And so breakfast passed. Afterwards, Ginny and Harry shared a smirk outside on the deck.

"That was a good one, Secret Agent Pickled Cranberries," said Ginny, resting her head on Harry's chest.

"Why thank you, Agent Frog Liver!" Harry replied brightly.

"What do you suppose they'll do next?" Ginny wondered aloud.

Suddenly, a cascade of icy water crashed down on the two.

Ginny sat gaping, water streaming down her face. Harry blinked slowly-once, twice, and again. Both turned their heads simultaneously towards the window ledge above them and back at each other.

The war was on.


	4. The Primitive Way

Author's Note: I am suffering my worst case of writer's block/finals studying/dying computer/having a life besides EVER. Forgive me if this chapter sucks? I'm sorry, guys.

Disclaimer: I'm getting tired of doing these…

"This is the LAST STRAW," Ginny stated for the fourth time as she toweled off her hair. "They are going to PAY."

Harry smiled slightly, watching her fume.

"Harry, what do we do?" she groaned, and slammed the towel onto the kitchen table, successfully knocking down the Mrs. Weasley's most prized pitcher, which incidentally happened to be full to the brim with pumpkin juice.

"Scourgify! Reparo!" shouted Ginny, wildly waving her arms.

"Ginny, love, you need a wand," said Harry as gently as possible, for fear of being eaten alive by the Ginny-monster.

"Wand, wand, where?" She felt around her pockets. "Here it is…WAIT."

("I'm waiting," said Harry.)

"STOP."

("Stop what?" asked Harry, bewildered.)

"DON'T MOVE."

("I'm not!" said Harry exasperatedly.)

"WANDS. BROTHERS. STEAL. NO MAGIC."

Silence.

(_Primitive Ginny and the Cave-Speak Encounter_, reserve one before it's too late! Release date: undisclosed as of yet)

The Light of Understanding was beginning to dawn on Harry's face. Aha! The cave-speak was beginning to register!

"THEY STOLE OUR WANDS?!"

"What? No!" exclaimed Ginny, snapping out of the Stone Age.

Alas, Harry was not a very accomplished member of The Primitive Way.

"I meant that we should steal their wands, O Dim One."

"Hey! I'm also your boyfriend!"

"So? All the more reason," said Ginny smugly.

"I'll show you reason," said Harry, and kissed her.

"Oh," said Ginny vaguely, when he released her.

Now it was Harry's turn to grin smugly.

"Aw, gross! Would you two lovers go get a room?" complained Ron as he stepped into the kitchen. "Where's the pumpkin juice?"

"It spilled," said Ginny matter-of-factly.

"How? It was in the center of the kitchen table!" he wailed.

Ginny had an evil idea.

"Well, things got a bit-_carried away_…" she said, choosing her words carefully.

Ron groaned and fled back up the stairs.

"God, so immature," grumbled Ginny loudly, and she snorted.

Harry snorted, as well.

Ginny snorted back.

Harry would have snorted again had he not seen the gargantuan black spider hanging from a thin web on the ceiling.

"Ginny!" he said.

"That was an odd sounding snort," said Ginny.

"No, Gin, look! Spider! Ceiling! Ron!"

Methinks the cave-speak is getting to him, thought Ginny.

"You can form grammatically correct sentences, I hope?" she asked primly.

"Yes," said Harry indignantly.

"Just checking," said Ginny innocently.

"Fine, fine, fine. You know, you're a terrible person," said Harry, laughing.

"I do know. I know everything."

"Uh huh," said Harry. "Well, do you now how we're supposed to get that spider down from the ceiling and stuff it down Ron's shirt without him noticing AND at the same time steal all five of their wands?"

Um, no? thought Ginny. But there was no way she was giving in! She was Ginny! He was Harry! Ginny ALWAYS wins. She got him to kiss her, didn't she? I am a WINNER, Ginny thought confidently. And winners never _lose,_ because that would make them _losers_. And _losers _aren't _winners! _And I'm a winner, so I don't lose, or else I'll become a loser, which is not a winner! So if I'm a winner, and I lose, I will no longer be anything! Because I am a winner! So I _have _to win or else I'll have no identity! (So help me Merlin!)

Satisfied with her somewhat flawed logic, she replied swottily:

"Yes."

Harry looked nonplussed.

"How?"

"Well, first thing, we have to capture the spider in some sort of container."

_No shit, Sherlock, _said a voice in her head.

_Shut up, _Ginny replied. _Who are you anyway?_

_I'm-_

"A loser! Ginny does not tolerate losers because she's a winner! Leave! _Leave, I say_!"

Harry was looking at Ginny strangely.

"What?" she asked defensively.

"Er-"

Oh.

OH.

She had just yelled that last line aloud, hadn't she?

Crapola.

"Where do we find that?" Harry asked.

"What?"

"A container. For the Arachnid."

Praise the Lord for temporary deafness!

"Easy," said Ginny normally, and began to rummage through the kitchen cabinets. "Aha!" she said, and produced a peanut butter jar.

"Ginny, that's half filled with peanut butter."

"It's empty enough," she shrugged.

"If you're sure," said Harry.

"Yeah. Okay," said Ginny, sounding much surer than she felt. "Go ahead."

"Go ahead what?"

"Get the spider, duh."

"Me?"

"Um, yeah."

"What?!"

Ginny gave him her finest pair of puppy dog eyes. Who could resist those big, brown, beautiful, thick-lashed peepers of hers?

No one, that's right.

…Except Harry.

"No," he said flatly.

"Haaarrrryyyy!" whined Ginny. "Please? For me?"

He looked thoughtful for a second.

"I hate it when people use that line. Fine."

Ginny smiled. Ginny: 3, Harry: 0.

Life was good, life was good.


	5. Scuttle Scuttle Scuttle Right

A/N: Yay, new chappie and more reviews! Special thanks to carolquin for your support.

Disclaimer: will no longer be appearing because I am sick of them.

Scuttle, scuttle, scuttle right. Unstick, aaand scuttle, scuttle, scuttle left. Forward! Backward! Unstick, wave leg in air. Then back to scuttling.

What a fascinating life this spider had.

Ginny rested her chin on the table as she observed the spider's frantic attempts to find a way out of the peanut butter jar, tapping the glass every few seconds to confuse it. She smiled contentedly as the insect unstuck itself from the wall for the tenth time, only with so much force it flew the diameter of the jar and promptly got itself stuck again, this time on the other side.

"Ginny?"

Ah, the spider was calling to her. This was not the first time she had heard voices from objects that supposedly could not talk.

"Hello," she murmured through the glass. "Have you tried eating the peanut butter yet?"

"No, I hate peanut butter," said the spider.

"Would you rather be stuck in a jam jar, then?" she questioned it.

The spider heaved a sigh. "I'd rather not be stuck anywhere," it said, and scuttled a bit to the right, revealing-

"AAAAARRRRGHHH!" yelled Ginny, springing away from the table. When the spider had moved aside, she had come face to peanut butter jar with a giant, distorted, acid green eye!

"Er, Ginny?" it said.

And then she realized.

"Don't _do _that," she said weakly.

Harry sniggered. "Were you talking to the spider?"

"No," said Ginny, acting like she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. "Come outside, we need to levitate this spider through the window," she said bossily, and marched out the back door.

Harry stared after her. He had fallen in love with a very strange girl, indeed.

…

"So. This is the master plan, because it was made by the master, who is me. First, you need to get out your broom and gage Ron's position in his room. His window is the second on the right. Then, I will levitate this jar to you, and you will take out the spider and levitate it through the window and down Ron's shirt. Meanwhile, in the chaos that will ensue, I will race fleet-footedly through the house, and up the stairs, before slipping noiselessly into his room and gracefully stealing the wands of all my brothers who are holed up in there. Got it?"

Harry looked at Ginny for a second, and then burst out laughing.

""What?" she said indignantly.

"Nothing," he replied quickly. "I'll go get my broom." And he left, chuckling all the way.

Ginny wrinkled her nose and smiled at his retreating back. She had fallen in love with a very strange boy, indeed.

…

Harry returned around five minutes later, shouldering his Firebolt, to find Ginny once more enraptured by the spider. Only this time, she was copying the spider's movements with her own.

"Scuttle, scuttle, scuttle right. Unstick, aaand scuttle, scuttle, scuttle left," he heard her say as she sidestepped this way and that.

Harry coughed quietly.

Ginny's head snapped up as she caught sight of Harry, standing knee-deep in the tall grass.

"Eh? Oh, I was just…erm…looking for something. I, uhm, dropped, er…something…" she floundered.

Harry gave a very ill-concealed grin. "All right, then," he said, and mounting his broom, pushed off into the air.

Ginny looked very seriously into what she hoped were the spider's eyes.

"You do your job well," she said quietly. "And thank you for teaching me that lovely dance of yours," she added as an afterthought. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she cried, swishing and flicking her wand. The jar rose slowly into the air towards Harry.

"I've got it!" he called down to her, and unscrewed the lid of the jar, revealing a large, very sticky, very peanut butter-y spider. Slowly, Harry levitated the spider out of the jar and through the window, right on top of Ron's hair.

Ginny, meanwhile, was racing up the stairs. She paused outside of Ron's room.

Wait for it…wait for it…

"AAAAAAAAH!" came a high pitched shriek from behind the door. Ginny took this as her cue. She slipped in as Ron jumped around the room, bumping wildly into his brothers. "GET IT OFF ME! GET IT OFF ME!" he yelled.

"No problem," said Fred, and he reached toward Ron. Apparently the spider gave a very sudden movement, for just as Fred's hand was two inches away from Ron, Ron screamed and jumped out of the way, his wand falling from his pocket.

Ginny snatched it up. One down, four more to go.

Fred's wand was dangling from his ear-Ginny leaped forward and grabbed it.

Charlie was standing by, watching Ron's struggle as if it was a highly amusing television show. If he would just move-there! Ginny captured his wand. Now for Bill and George...Well, Bill's was easy, it was lying on Ron's bed. George had his stuffed deep in his pocket.

"Accio!" whispered Ginny, pointing her wand at George's pocket. His wand came soaring towards her and she caught it one handed, grinning smugly as she flounced around and trotted down the stairs.

"Ginny!" called Harry once she was outside. "Got all of them?"

"Yes, I do," she said primly.

"All right," Harry grinned at her. "What next, O Supreme Master of Master-Plans?"

"Now," said Ginny, plopping down on the grass, "We wait."


	6. Kissing and Spiders and Pregnancy, Oh My

A/N: So, after three years, I figured I should finally finish this story. I missed it. To anyone who's been waiting...well. WOOHOO, thank you and my apologies for the, ahem, slight delay...This is a pretty crap chapter, one of those in-between things that connect other, uh, things. Yeah. Anyways, have fun!

...

Ginny and Harry had spent the last hour outside on the grass in a rather low-key sense of pleasant paranoia, which manifested itself in Ginny's heightened awareness of their present surroundings and resulted in her twitching far more often than was normal. They talked, of course, as they hadn't really been able to since the Weasley brothers had engaged them in their present state of war. They kissed too. A bit.

Well, maybe more than a bit.

"I always wondered when you'd come around," sighed Ginny, as Harry, propped up on his elbow, entwined his fingers in her hair.

"I always wondered whether your face was naturally that red," Harry replied, grinning.

"Oh, do shut up, you - you-"

"Strong, handsome fellow who captured your heart at first sight?"

Ginny glared at him. "You did NOT," she scowled.

"Did too."

"Did not."

Harry smirked. "Elbow in the butter dish..." he said quietly.

Ginny smacked his arm.

"Geez, woman!" Harry exclaimed. "Care to show me that spider dance you were doing earlier today?"

Ginny flashed him her most haughty look. "Shan't," she sang, sticking her nose in the air.

Harry merely laughed. "I didn't want to learn it anyway," he said, equally snobbishly.

There was a rather loaded pause.

"What did you say?" asked Ginny, slowly turning to look at him. "Did you dare insult the most important Peanut Buttery Jar Dance of the Society of Eight-Legged Friends?"

"Why yes, dear Ginny, I believe he did."

Ginny spun around. There, holding a large black spider by one of its rather furry legs, stood Gred.

Forge.

Right. Fred.

"I am here with a message, sibling of ours."

Ginny narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"Yes?"

"We have your wands," Fred announced in what seemed to be his most dramatic tone.

Ginny couldn't help it. She laughed.

And laughed.

...And laughed.

"Um, Gin?" asked Harry, a concerned look on his face. "G-ginny?"

Ginny snorted, choked, and promptly set herself off again.

"Ginny," said Ron irritably, emerging from behind a rather thick tree-trunk. "Didn't you hear Fred? We have your wands."

"No-you-don't!" she managed to gasp out, tears of mirth leaking from her eyes. Of course she still had her wand. And Harry's too, as a matter of fact.

I am a winner, Ginny thought gleefully. I am a WINNER! No one would ever think to look in her underwear drawers for her's, Harry's and all of the rest of the contraband wands belonging to her older brothers.

Ginny had, in fact, stolen every single one of the wands belonging to male persons under the age of 48 in the Burrow. And hidden all of them amongst her unmentionables in the third drawer under the vanity.

Winning winning winning winning, Ginny's head repeated gleefully. Win win win win!

Soon enough, the Weasley brothers would realize that the wands they thought they had stolen from Harry and Ginny were, in fact, fakes - Fred and George's own inventions, in fact.

Ron brandished what he thought was Ginny's wand in the direction of Harry's face.

"Now. Confess! What have the two of you been doing since the morning?" he growled, his fiery red hair throwing off his threatening appearance entirely.

"_Oh," _Ginny said with a secretive smile. "I didn't think you'd wanted to _know._"

Ron's ears suddenly matched his hair.

"Harry, if she's pregnant-"

"Oh, come off it, Ron," Ginny giggled. "Don't act like you didn't know _that _already! What did you think we were doing all those times neither of us were in the Common Room last year? And why else did you think we're getting married?"

"I-you-"

"Yes, me," Ginny said calmly.

"Harry-_baby-_"

"That would be my line, thank you very much."

Ron glared at her, evidently still unable to form coherent sentences.

"But-but-_together-"_

Ron was getting the hang of cavespeak far too quickly for comfort.

Ron spluttered. "Fred, what-how-"

"Oh Ronnie, don't tell me you don't know how girls get preggers, didn't Hermione tell you?"

Ron's eyes bugged out. "FRED!" he exclaimed. "I thought you were on OUR side! The RIGHT side!"

Fred opened his mouth to reply, caught sight of something over Ron's left shoulder, and promptly fainted.

"Wha?" Ron gazed, dumbstruck, at Fred's body.

"Hi, Won-won," came a breathy voice behind him.

Ron looked terrified. "Lav-lav?" he whispered, eyes wide as he turned around.

"HERMIONE!"

"Oh, Ronald!"

Ginny turned to look at Harry. "Did you know she was arriving today?" she asked him.

"Nope," he replied, as he eyed the two embracing, an expression of utter revulsion on his face. "Tell me, Gin, does it look like Ron's eating her face from where you're standing too?"

Ginny closed her eyes in horror. "I'd rather not look, Harry dear."

"Well, that works for me too, I suppose," he said matter-of-factly, as he bounded up and kissed her.

She let out a little _mph! _of surprise, but allowed him to. She liked the feel of his hands in her hair, anyway. And right on the small of her back, as she stood up on her tippy-toes for a better angle. And feeling his hair in between her fingers. And those ridiculous twinges she felt when his eyelashes brushed her cheek as he wandered a bit from her mouth. She knew this was all going to benefit her plan anyway. Yes, it would only help...of course, of course, the plan...

Right.

The plan.

What was that again?


End file.
